


Day 3: Ice Skating

by Magicalflyingfish



Category: Assassination Classroom
Genre: Karushuu Week 2021, Not Beta Read, figure skating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:01:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29023863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magicalflyingfish/pseuds/Magicalflyingfish
Summary: Written for day 3 of Karushuu week, I just thought it looked fun :)Edit: Added more scenes and fixed some things.
Relationships: Akabane Karma/Asano Gakushuu
Comments: 5
Kudos: 45





	Day 3: Ice Skating

**Author's Note:**

> The Karushuu ended up being just a little sprinkle, but I hope you enjoy reading!
> 
> Edit: Now there's a few more sprinkles. I got bored and wanted to expand on the story more, it felt really choppy before.

Karma’s earliest memories of his parents were taking him skating. It was before they started leaving on business trips. Before they got tired of playing family.

He always wore these little red mittens with a fuzzy coat to match, though they would both be soaked by the time they were ready to go home those first few weeks. They stayed drier the more they went. More practices meant fewer falls. “Oh, Karma! You look so cute, let Mama take a picture!”  
  
Would they have stayed if he never grew up?

They signed him up for private lessons after that, starting at once a week before their family-skate. “He has a lot of potential. Have you considered bumping it up to two lessons a week? I believe he would benefit from the extra instruction.”

His parents were eager to comply, even changing it to three lessons, an hour each instead of the forty-five minutes he’d been having. Karma had been excited too. He loved skating, and the lady, Fujiwara-Sensei, he had as his coach was nice!

It was great, at first. He got extra time to practice and to just skate with his parents. But then slowly, oh so slowly, did the family-skates start to turn into grueling practices. “Do it again, Karma.”  
  
Again. It can be better. Do you want us to be wasting our money? Do it for the camera.

Make Mama and Papa proud.

He tried, he really did. He practiced off-ice on his own after school. He stretched. He ran through the routines. He did the exercise his coach gave him. He practiced his jumps. He even started competing, placing first in each one.

It was never enough. 

Something could always be better, and why would they be proud of anything less than perfection? Why should he be proud of anything less?

He wondered if they would be proud if he finally reached perfection. Would they have stayed, or would they have still left him in Japan for who knows where?

  
“Congratulations, Karma.” His coach smiled, old age starting to show in her grey locks. “You did it. You get to compete at the Japan Figure Skating Championships.”

“I-I what?” He gaped. He had only passed his senior test a month ago! He hadn’t even competed yet! How was he already getting to go?! “This isn’t a prank, right? It’s not revenge for the hair dye in Yamaguchi-Sensei’s shampoo?”

“I can assure you, it’s real.” She laughed before turning more serious. “One of the people scoring your test was impressed and looked into your Junior competition track record. They are looking to see if you can perform well enough to get a slot on Japan’s Olympic team. This opportunity is big, Karma.”

“W-wait. What about the age requirement? I’ll be fourteen at the start of the competitions.” Karma paced anxiously, not quite willing to believe it. “A-and we only have two months. I don’t have the programs, or a costume, o-!”

“The Men’s competition starts the day after your birthday, and relax, I’m handling it.” She tried to calm him down, already fishing out her phone. “Yamaguchi already put some sample songs together for you to listen to, and Sato will have some costume designs by tomorrow. Sato also recommends choosing a more magenta color rather than purple if you’re going to be dying Yamaguchi’s hair.”

“This is really happening?” He sat down, taking the phone and scrolling through. Oh, that last point was good to note. “Did you… did you tell my parents already?”

“It is, and I’m so proud of you.” Proud. He hated that word. “I haven’t told them yet. I thought you might like to have that honor.”

“Thank you.” He smiled, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.

He called them that night after arranging everything for the next two months. He doubled his dance and skating lessons and arranged extra meetings with his trainer and one with Mr. Sato for his measurements. Everything was set in place. Everything was taken care of.

It rang once. Twice. Three times. Four. “Karma? Is something wrong?”

“I’m going to compete at the Japan Championships. Senior-level.” His voice was calm, unwilling to give away his excitement as if that would jinx their response.

“That’s nice, sweetie.” His mother didn’t give away any either, his father chiming in from the background. “You’ve been working hard.”

Karma waited a few more moments, waited for just the four words that would never come. “Thanks. Ah, well, it’s late. Goodnight?”

“Goodnight, Karma.”

  
“We need to talk about your recent… performance.” Karma wasn’t surprised this conversation was happening, but he was surprised about the concern in Karasuma’s eyes. Irina and Koro-sensei were staring at him as well, though he was less surprised about their feelings.

He just couldn’t bring himself to care. His energy was sapped, and this wasn’t what he wanted to spend the bit he had on. “Yeah, yeah, I’m not doing my work, I’m skipping class. Whatever. Just give me the usual spiel. I want to go.”

“Kid, we know something is wrong,” Irina stated bluntly. “You’ve looked like you’re one step from the grave these past few weeks. What is it?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m just tired.” Everything was just piling up. The activities, school, and the pressure. So much pressure. “And do I really look that bad?”

“Well, not as bad as Irina described, but you do look a bit unwell,” Koro-sensei assured him. Not like it helped much. “Is there something keeping you from getting enough sleep? We want to help you in any way we can.”

“I’m fine. I promise.” He sighed, glancing at the clock. “There’s just some… stuff… going on at home. It’ll all be over by the end of winter break. Are we done?”

“I suppose. But, please, don’t hesitate to come to one of us for help.” Karasuma ran a hand down his face. “We care about you.”

“Sure, sure. I gotta run.” And Karma was out the door, pretending the three pairs of eyes didn’t stare as he left.

  
“That was a good run. Do it from the top again, this time with more extension and expressions.” Fujiwara called out from the side of the rink. “Remember to point your feet, I saw some bent ankles!”

He nodded in acknowledgment, skating back to the center of the rink. He’d just fixed the angle of his jumps that round and kept his Beillmann spin centered, so he needed to remember to focus on those as well.

The music would play and Karma would skate, paying attention to every tiny detail. Sometimes it would play all the way through. Sometimes it would stop for his coach to make corrections. That would result in either just a quick pointer or practicing the same move over and over until he fixed the mistakes in it. It was repetitive, very repetitive, but necessary.

By about halfway through, at the one and a half hour mark, his dance teacher and trainer would appear. They’d give him pointers on how to improve his artistry, of how to look more graceful without sacrificing any of his power. Then he’d run through the program again with all the elements they added.

It was exhausting in and of itself. Even more so after a day of school and his morning dance lesson, or with the knowledge that his strength training would follow.

The crowd didn’t make it any better, especially around this time of year. It was a mixture of people excited for the upcoming competitions, just random passerbyers trying to get in some holiday shopping, and people waiting for the next public session. But this week had been different. Like he was being watched.

Not like being watched by a crowd of people, but like a singular pair of hidden eyes. Like he was a rabbit being hunted down by a wolf. Creepy.

That evening, as he finally stepped off the ice to free his aching feet, he could have sworn he saw the glint of purple eyes in the crowd.

“I like your skating routines. They're both surprisingly elegant, even the more fiery one.”

Karma almost choked on his strawberry milk carton, barely stopping himself from spewing it over the train as he shrieked. “Asano?! You’re the one who’s been watching me?!”

The other boy wasn’t phased a bit. “Plenty of people have been watching you, Akabane.”

“I can feel your stare on my neck.” Karma deadpanned before tilting his head in curiosity. “Why are you watching me, anyway? Isn’t the mall kind of far away? Doesn’t it cut into your study time?”

“My guitar lessons are there.” Gakushuu shrugged. “And I can study by the rink. It’s rather warm in the bleachers.”

That last part was a lie and Karma knew it. There was a reason rumors of grandparents losing their toes to frostbite up there existed. “Mmm.”

He didn’t think either of them expected Gakushuu to keep watching after that, or to sit on the train each day together.

“How long have you been playing guitar?” Karma hummed, eyes closing as the train began to move. He was careful not to lean on Asano. That would be weird.

“Since I was ten. My father wanted me to learn a stringed instrument but didn’t specify which one.” Gakushuu chuckled slightly. “My mother wouldn’t let him make me switch, but he still made me learn how to play classical songs on it.”

“Asano, being rebellious? I never thought I'd hear that one day!” The red-head teased lightly. “But, seriously. I’m happy you got to do something you like. You have no idea how many kids I’ve seen get shoved into skating just to fulfill their parents’ dreams.”

“That was what my mother said, that I wouldn’t be any good at the violin if I hated it.” He felt Gakushuu nod. “You… you need to like art if you’re going to do it right.”

“Do you…” Karma yawned, the exhaustion of the day creeping in. “Do you think you could play something?”

“It’s an electric guitar, so you’d have to wear my headphones.” The other boy was already pulling up the case. “I don’t want to disturb the other people on the train.

“That’s alright.”

They’d practiced jumps all practice long, save for the warm-up. Fujiwara-sensei had lectured him on his technique, Tanaka on the position of his arms both in the air and of his landing position, and Sato on his takeoff. Jumps were fun, sure, but they were exhausting. Particularly when every aspect was being nit-picked.

“I’m sorry we pressed you so much today, but you needed it.” Fujiwara watched him undo his skates. “Your jumps are beautiful. We can’t have the gap between them and the rest of your skating.”

“I know, I know. They’re the point grabbers.” Karma sighed. He hoped his feet weren’t going to blister. “Is Sato-sensei giving me a break today? He left earlier than normal.”

She nodded. “We don’t want you to injure yourself. He wanted me to tell you to take a nice, warm bath tonight and get some sleep.”

“Dance in the morning though, right?” He grimaced at the thought.

“Of course, but I think you’ll be focusing more on positions and stretching.” Well, at least there was that. It still didn’t make up for having to get up so early in the morning. “Both were happy with the improvements you made from the beginning to the end of practice.”

“I’ll tell them thank you next time I see them.” He stood up, wincing as his back popped.

“Next practice is spins and moves. Make sure to stretch well beforehand.” She raised an eyebrow at the noise, eying him warily.

“Don’t I always?” The eyebrow raised higher. “Fine, fine, I will.”

“Have a nice nap, kid?” Irina’s snark was undertoned with concern. He spent most of his classes napping at this point. Save for English and math. His coach had warned him he’d probably have to answer some questions in English, depending on how much reporters took interest in him. Math just happened to be his favorite subject. “You still look terrible.”

“It was a nice nap, and I resent that comment.” He was still so tired, his muscles aching from the night before. With a grimace, he started to stretch his back. “Ow.”

“Turn around.” The blonde moved forward from her chair with a snap.

“Eh?!” What? Why would he turn around? Was... was it his face?!”

“Just do it, I’m trying to help!” She rolled her eyes, and he complied. What was she doin-?

Oh. That felt good. Her hands were massaging his shoulders and neck. He almost started to relax into it, much to her satisfaction, before jolting up with an alarmed yelp. “Can’t Feels good, but I can’t.”

“And why’s that? Are you injured or something?” Oops. He’d offended her.

“No, I, uh….” He paused, squinting at her for a second. “...Is that new eyeshadow?”

“Yeah.” She answered automatically, blinking in shock. “Do you… have a concussion?”

“Can you show me how to do it? It looks nice.” and would go perfectly with his short program costume if he just changed the blue to purple. Yes, that would look nice. “And I can appreciate makeup that looks nice, too!”

“I’ll, uh, go get my makeup bag.” If Koro-sensei or Karasuma saw them later, they didn’t comment.

“You can take any one person outside of your family to come to the competition for free,” Fujiwara announced at the end of the practice, only two days before the competition. “Do you have anyone in mind?”

Karma looked up at the bleachers, spotting a familiar strawberry blond. He was reading out of a math textbook, his guitar case as a table. How typical. Had he even realized the practice was over?

He couldn’t help the smile that formed on his face as he called out. “Yo, Asano! Come down here! We want to ask you something!”

He didn’t bother checking to see if he was coming down, there wasn’t any need to. He just sat down and took off his skates, making sure to wipe off the blades well. It would be bad if he started getting rust on the blades right before the competition.

Fujiwara waited patiently for Asano to get down there, watching in amusement as Karma bounced on his heels. “You two must be very good friends for him to come and watch all of your practices. Are you classmates?”

Huh, he guessed they were friends. That was nice. “Sort of. He’s in a different class but in the same grade.”

“Mmm.” She hummed.

Gakushuu didn’t take long to get there, bowing slightly once he reached them. “Hello. My name is Asano Gakushuu. It’s a pleasure to meet you.

“It’s nice to meet you as well. I’m Fujiwara Aiko, Karma’s coach.” She bowed as well. “Karma gets an extra ticket for one non-family member for the Japanese Championships in Kyoto, and was hoping you’d like to be the one to take it.”

“It would be an honor.” The two boys smiled at each other.

While he was disappointed his parents weren’t going to be there for his short program, they promised they would get there in time for the long program. Gakushuu was there though, and that made it a little bit better.

He skated the best he could to the fiery music, a mixture of classical and pop. Each edge was clean, his extensions long and smooth, the jumps going both high and long.

It would have been nearly perfect if it weren’t for the last spin. “It’s okay, Karma. You only traveled a little bit.”

“It was still too much. Wasn’t good enough.” He whimpered, tears streaming down his face as they left the kiss and cry booth. “Messed up.”

“Karma, you’re in second place and only five points from first.” She frowned. “This is your first senior competition and you’re doing wonderful. Remember, I only expect you to aim for perfection, not reach it.”

“They’re not going to come tomorrow.” He shook his head, sobs starting to draw the attention of the other coaches and skaters. “It’s my fault. They’re not going to come because I messed up!”

“Well if they don’t come because of that, then they don’t deserve to see you skate.” One of the coaches chimed in, his two skaters nodding in agreement. “You did good, kid.”

“Th-thanks.” He bowed his head, ashamed of the tears still falling. “Sensei, can we go back to the hotel?”

“Since the competition is over, I suppose so...”

  
Karma stared at his phone, seeing all the texts from his classmates. They were all variations of ‘we didn’t know you could skate,’ ‘wow, I saw you on TV,’ and ‘why didn’t you tell us?’  
He ignored them, looking for the chat with Asano Gakushuu. It was pretty easy to find, seeing as he was the only one not texting that stuff. Karma didn’t want to text though, instead hitting ‘call.’ “Asano?”

“Akabane.” He greeted. “Are you alright? You were crying pretty hard as you left.”

“Yeah, just a bit overwhelmed. Thanks for asking.” He ran a hand down his face. “My classmates are all freaking out right now. It’s pretty funny.”

“I imagine they would be. The entire school is probably going nuts right now.” Asano laughed. He actually laughed. “You did well, by the way. I hope they’re focusing on that as well.”

“Nah, they’re pretty mad I didn’t tell them.” Karma snickered. “My teachers are going to be so mad. They’ve thought I was dying or something the past two months with all my practices. I’m pretty sure I overheard our English teacher making funeral arrangements.”

“To be fair, it has looked like that. You’re lucky you look pretty with makeup on.”

“You wound me! You’re supposed to say I’d look pretty with or without makeup!”

“Didn’t your parents teach you not to lie, Akabane?” The mood instantly soured. His parents.

“Mmm, they haven’t been around. That sounds like something one of my trainers would have taught me.” Karma scoffed. “I don’t even know if they’re coming tomorrow since I messed up. They don’t like to see anything less than perfect.”

“...That’s rough. I guess I understand, my father is the same way.” Their parents were alike, weren’t they? “Try not to let it get to you until after the competition, at least. It’ll just make it harder if you think about it while you skate.”

“What do you want me to think about instead?” Karma tried to lighten the mood. “Aren’t I supposed to be thinking of my parents while I skate?”

“...Think of me.” And then he hung up.

“E-Eh?! You can’t hang up on that!”

Karma was right.

They didn’t come.

“We’re sorry, dear. We just don’t see any point in missing work if you’re not going to win.” They tried to apologize as if that was even a good attempt. “Remember, we’re having to pay for all your lessons, and if you’re not winning, you’re not bringing in any money.”

His coach had torn into them, Karma just sitting on the bench with a numb feeling. His mind was hazy, unable to focus. Maybe he should go stretch? Stretching sounded good. He started with the basic ones, methodically warming up to the splits. That would be good for his Beillmann, right? For the camel spin?

“Karma? Karma, sweetie?” His coach was tapping his shoulder, face blurry.

Oh.

Was he crying?

“Karma, it’s okay, you can do this. You don’t need them. You have me, you have Yamaguchi, you have Sato, you have Suzuki, you have Tanaka. Everyone is here for you. What about that Asano boy? Or your classmates and teachers?” She tried to reach him. “We’re all cheering you on.”

“I just wish they were.” Karma sniffled. “Remember when I was little? They used to watch me then. Before the only things that mattered were medals and scores.”

“Karma, the only thing that should matter is that you’re enjoying this. You like skating, right? You’re not just doing it for the medals?” She was kneeling in front of him, gently pulling him out of the stretch.

“Y-yeah. I like skating.” He nodded. What was her point?

“Then skate for you. Don’t do it for your parents.” How did she sound so stern and caring at the same time? “I can pull you out of the competition if you’d like. Do you want to do that?”

“I want to compete.” That’s right. He was skating for himself.

“Good. Now, let’s go fix your makeup. Your mascara is running down your face.”

This was it. His time to prove himself to himself.

Not to his parents.

He skated around a few times, testing the ice and wringing out his hands before getting in position. He crouched low to the ground, back straight, arms and free leg extended, his standing one bent deep. He was ready. The crowd went silent.

It started slow, letting him gracefully rise to the beat of the drums, gliding backward before starting the crossovers. Other than the music, the only thing one could hear were the sounds of his skates. Once he picked up speed, he slowly squatted down, leaning back so that he was almost parallel with the ice as the violins began to play.

He continued with each movement extended and melodic, even into his spin, going from a donut spin into a back sit spin with a flying leap. He only had one jump set in the beginning, a triple-double-triple combination, saving them for the extra points.

Just after the half-time mark, the violins started to quicken, rising in pitch to match the flutes and oboes. He met amethyst eyes for just a second before bending at the knee, jumping forward into a triple axel, and landing just as the beat dropped. The crowd went wild, the music speeding up again.

He kept going, step sequences of twizzles and hops and turns, spirals and spins between jumps. He landed the quad-triple-quad combination and more. The adrenaline kept rising and rising until he lost himself in the performance.

And then, it was over.

His heart beat erratically in his chest, his back was arched deep, and his head hung loose with one arm behind and the other over his chest. With a shuddering breath, he rose to bow to the audience and judges. There was only one audience member he was looking for, smiling as the said member threw down a stuffed kitten.

It was the only one he bothered to pick up.

He did it. He actually did it.

He won.

The scores, the medal ceremony, the cheers, it all passed by in a blur. The only thing reminding him that it wasn't all just a dream was the gold medal bouncing against his chest.

He had to find Asano.

His coach just laughed as he sprinted through the stadium, not bothering to chase him. Asano would be waiting for him at the skater exit, squeezed in with the press. That wouldn’t make him hard to find. Nobody looked like Asano.

The Cameras flashed before his eyes, blinding him. “Karma!”

Asano’s voice. He turned to it, a smile wide on his face when someone barreled into him.

Lips pressed up against his, their owner’s scent familiar despite never having touched like this before. Strawberry. Sweet. He leaned in, heart fluttering and hands returning the hug.

Asano was kissing him.

They pulled apart, and Karma’s vision finally returned enough to let him stare into those amethyst eyes.

“I’m proud of you.”

He never imagined those words would have meant so much, coming from someone other than his parents, before.

“Thank you.”

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like Karma would focus a lot on flexibility since it's not really something expected in men's skating and try to make it pretty so he'd stand out more? Like, he'd still want to big jumps (RIP Karma's joints), but he wouldn't just completely forgo the artistry or sacrifice practicing spins.
> 
> I skipped out on writing the actual performances, it ended up looking kind of yuck without any music associated with it, not to mention I don't think anyone would want to read me writing 'crossover, crossover, three-turn, crossover left, crossover right, ect, ect...' for two three and four minute routines lol.
> 
> Edit: I lied about no writing the performance, except its still just a tiny description.
> 
> Thank you for reading :)


End file.
